


In the Wrong Time, but the Right Place

by TeriTheTacticalUnicorn



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Awkward Garrus Vakarian, Because time travel, Destroy Ending, Doctor Who References, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Jane and John Shepard, MC is a nerd, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Rating May Change, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Time Travel, Who says dextro and levo can't procreate?, idk yet, maybe smut?, they're twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 12:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20796962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeriTheTacticalUnicorn/pseuds/TeriTheTacticalUnicorn
Summary: Have you ever wondered what Time travel could actually do? One military Astrophysicist did, and she got much more than she bargained for when a miscalculation sent her to the year 2186.Reapers have torn earth apart, the Hero lives, and his sister is worried for him.There is a woman in old fashion Fatigues from 2019 just walking around and helping people.Seriously, i have no idea why my brain thought of this! Just go with it.~Nia~





	In the Wrong Time, but the Right Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astuarian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astuarian/gifts).

> Henri (Onree)

James

Dr. Brooklyn K

38210-6772

12/24/1993

O Pos - USN Sci

Christian

Brooklyn took a deep breath; she didn't know if her machine would even work as she caressed the sleek metal. And if it did work, what then? She doubted she made time travel possible. Even if she had, it was Military equipment, it was a project they had on the table since the sixties.

Sticking her hands into the pockets of the lab coat she wore over her fatigues, she walked to the panel on the opposite side of the machine. Her brown hair was in a tight bun at the back of her head, her grey eyes looked too big for her sharp face behind large glasses. She looked up at the gallery, where her CO was standing at the giant picture window with a group of men who scoffed at her regularly. 

Nodding, Brooklyn turned to the panel and twisted knobs and pressed buttons before pulling a switch half her size, in a downward position. 

_ Nothing happened. Why isn't it working? _She internally screamed at herself as the group in the gallery dispersed. It wasn't the first time it hadn't worked. Wasn't even the tenth. She left the lab, pulling her glasses off as she wiped away the tears that silently stained her pale face. It was 2019! Time travel with today's tech should be easy! 

An hour later, her Uber dropped her outside her London flat - one of the perks of being stationed in England. 

Brooklyn sat outside her home, a cigarette perched between her fingers as she pulled her leather jacket around herself. It was September and starting to get chilly. It reminded her of when her junkie mom made her sit out in the frigid cold while she was getting high. Bile began to rise up in Brooklyn's throat at the thought. 

She couldn't even enjoy a fall night in London without being pulled back to her abusive mother. Brooklyn grimaced as she put the cigarette out and headed inside. 

The next morning was business as usual: shower, dry and straighten her wild brown curls, put the now straight mass of brunette hair into a bun because of regs. Pull on a hideous off-grey-is-supposed-to-look-like-blue t-shirt, dark blue digi-camo cargo pants, tuck in the shirt. Belt, socks, boots. And finally the digi-camo fatigue top with **JAMES, B** on a few patches here and there. 

Her neighbor and best friend, Lucas, always greeted her as he came down the front steps of the flat. "’Ello, Brooklyn. Off to work?" he'd ask every morning, and every day her answer was the same.

"Yea, off to the coffee shop? I'll walk with you," she said. They repeated this routine every morning: Brooklyn met Lucas at the bottom of the stairs, they walked in companionable silence to Lucas's Coffee shop, he made her her favorite pumpkin spice coffee, her Uber picked her up and off to work she went.

She usually finished her coffee before getting to the gates of the base, but today it was still half-full. Today felt… different. She couldn't put her finger on it. She had a routine, followed it to the letter like she had for the past four years. Since the day after she moved into her flat. 

She removed her fatigue top, replacing it with her lab coat before walking into her lab. Henri hadn't arrived yet.

_ Odd, he's usually here before me. _

Brooklyn couldn't shake the feeling she had. She sat at her desk and sipped her now cold coffee as she looked at the readings from the night before. A slight fluctuation in the space/time influx, but nothing new. She threw her glasses across the desk and pushed her palms into her eyes. 

_ Why astrophysics, Brooklyn? Why not music, or art? _Her friend Liz's voice rang in her head. 

"I don't know Liz. What was I thinking?" she said aloud as she pushed her glasses back over her small nose. She picked up her airpods and shoved them in her ears before turning on Rhianna's _ Umbrella _. Singing aloud, she grabbed a wrench and started working on the machine in the middle of the room.

That's when all hell broke loose.

  
  
  


Brooklyn heard sirens, they pounded into the back of her skull in a high pitched wail. But it was… _ off _. They didn't sound like the sirens in London. When she opened her eyes, everything blurred together. Where were her glasses? She could make out shapes, but it was too dark to see any colors. 

It _ sounded _ like a warzone. She had seen battle, but what she heard here was far worse. She could _ feel _ someone pointing a gun at her. "Is someone there?" she asked, squinting in the dark and trying to feel around for her glasses. When she found them, she could feel the crack in the left lens before sliding them up her nose.

She wished she hadn't when she looked up to the 7 foot monster looming over her. It was like a giant avian-like… _ thing _ . It had white paint on its skeletal face and tiny beady eyes. Brooklyn scooted away before her hand landed in something warm and thick. Raising her hand to her eyes she saw it, but it was the wrong color. It was _ blue _ blood. It came from a dead skeletal thing. 

It's mandibles fluttered and she had to cover her ears as bird-like screeching came from it. She finally could see around her; bodies of different species were strewn before her. She covered her mouth at the massacre. What really drew her attention was the giant machine that looked like a sea creature but it was sleek black and _ massive _. 

"What the actual hell?" she asked before she saw it, the ruins of Big Ben. She was in London! But _ WHEN? _ She looked back at the bird-like thing and pulled her dog tags out of her shirt. Brooklyn showed him she was military, not knowing if it meant anything in whatever timeline she was in. The thing seemed to realize what she was asking and motioned for her to follow, still screeching.

An hour later, the sun was starting to rise as she stepped into an almost familiar setting. But it was _ wrong _ . This was… it _ couldn't be! _ She looked around, some buildings were very familiar, and then she saw the street sign… Lucas's shop used to sit where a weapons cache now sat. It was a Forward Operating Base. 

A large man walked up to her, the sides of his head were shaved and he walked like a marine, but he had on armor… like actual armor. Brooklyn shook her head.

"Thanks Servius, I'll take her to Admiral Hackett," the man said. His accent suggested Mexican descent, perhaps raised in a bilingual family. The _ thing _screeched again and shook the man's hand before leaving. 

"You understood that? How? Where the fuck am I? What happ--" Brooklyn began when he stopped her.

"Slow down chica, Servius said you were military personnel, so he brought you here. I'm Lieutenant James Vega. I was part of Commander John Shepard's crew," the man said as he eyeballed her dog tags.

"Lieutenant-Commander Brooklyn Kathleen James, Naval Astrophysicist. What year is it?" she asked, gaining a confused look from the large man standing in front of her.

"2186, why?" he said, and Brooklyn nearly collapsed. Another avian thing catching her under her arms. This one looked female, much smaller and thinner. 

Brooklyn broke out in laughter. _ I did it? I fucking created a working time machine! _

The woman screeched at James. "I don't know, Miss Vakarian. She looks unharmed," he said cocking his head at her.

"I'm not hurt, but that screeching threatens a migraine. I'm not from this time. This morning, I left _ that _ building with my best friend, we walked to his coffee shop just down there and I went to work. I'm from the year 2019," Brooklyn said, pulling her dog tags from her neck and holding them out for Vega to see her birthdate.


End file.
